End Game
by Wilsden
Summary: Cowley handles a tragedy.


End Game.

Pulling my coat around me to ward off the bitter cold of the dark January evening

I step from the car amid the various personnel that are gathered around the entrance to the disused warehouse floodlit by vehicle headlights.

"Its Doyle, Sir," one of my operatives explains." He won't let anyone near. The ambulance guys are waiting to take the body."

"How long has he been here?" I ask stupidly.

"Since it happened,Sir."

'Of course he has' I tell myself.'Where else would he be.' I am in shock at the tragic outcome of the gun battle. It's taken me just over an hour to get through the city's rush hour traffic to the outskirts of the industrial site since the call came through informing me that the assignment had gone badly wrong and I had lost one of my agents.

"Dear God." I mutter hurrying forward alone into the remains of the building. What I see takes my breath away and pulls me up short. He is seated on the ground, his arms around his dead partner who is slumped against him, his forehead resting on the top of Bodie's head.

"Doyle?"

There is no reply, no movement until I step into the imaginary circle he's created around them both.

"Go away!" he growls, his breath hanging white on the freezing air. His hand hovers briefly over the gun that lies at his side before he tightens his hold on Bodie, a warning that I am not to take him from him. I crouch down keeping outside his mental barrier.

"Oh my boy, I am so sorry." He is covered in Bodie's blood and has a wound of his own, a gash to his head but it doesn't look too serious. But that's not what concerns me. I am worried for his state of mind and for his physical wellbeing. He's in grave danger of hypothermia setting in. I need to get him out of here but I am also aware that the situation needs to be handled properly. I let the silence lie between us for a few seconds.

"Laddie, we need to let them take him,"I tell him gently and as he lifts his head his green eyes meet mine and are swimming with tears that ordinarily he wouldn't want me to see yet now he is past caring."

"I loved him." he says simply, his words echoing around the skeleton of the old warehouse but they tell me he has accepted his partner is dead. I need now to persuade him to release him.

"Aye lad, I know you did. I was fond of the old rascal too. He was a good man. But he'll be giving you hell for keeping him out here in the cold won't he?" Even in my coat the cold is already starting to creep into my bones. Doyle, in his shock and grief is oblivious. A lone tear escapes to run freely down his cheek as he presses a kiss to the top of Bodie's head. The sharp wind whistles in through broken windows tousling his dark curls and he pulls Bodie tight against him, protecting him even now.

"We need to get him into the warmth, don't we? We need to let them take him." I tell him again as gently as I can but these last words sound so brutal, so final.

"But not yet." Doyle whispers, his voice barely audible, his determination remaining but I sense the earlier aggression seeping from him.

"No lad, not yet. How about I give you a couple of minutes more first, eh? Let you say goodbye?" I know he needs this time, its important for his own recovery.

He looks up at me again, my image blurred by tears. He knows he has to let Bodie go but he also knows this means his partner will be gone from him forever and for now this is more than he can bare. Its breaking my heart, I can only imagine what its doing to his. I am heartened when my proposal doesn't meet with any resistance.

"Good, good." I rise slowly and on turning and walking away I hear his sobs. Outside the waiting ambulance crew greet me with enquiring looks, blowing warm breath into cold cupped hands and hopping from foot to foot.

"A couple more minutes," I tell them. "Give the lad a couple more minutes and then I need you to take the body as gently and as carefully as you can. Do you understand?" I doubt they do but they nod wordlessly, numbed by the cold. I dismiss the rest of my agents. I don't want them witnessing what might happen if this is all too much for Doyle.

I give him more than a couple of minutes but am anxious that the time doesn't renew Doyle's determination to stay with his partner and that he himself receives medical attention. Signalling to the two waiting medics I walk with them into the darkness as they carry a stretcher between them.

"Now remember what I said," I remind them as we approach. " Calmly and gently."

Within a few yards I stop them with a raised hand and I move towards Doyle. He is still cradling Bodie's body and slowly rocking backwards and forwards. He seems lost inside himself and I don't think he is aware I am there. I need to get his attention but am struggling for the right words to make what is to come as painless as possible.

"Doyle? My boy? We're ready now, laddie."

He stops the rocking motion and pauses for a moment before placing a long final kiss to his partners head wetting the other man's hair with his silent tears. He releases his frozen hold and his arms fall away. Indicating to the medics I stand back and they move in abiding by my instructions. The cold lifeless body is carefully lifted from Doyle's lap and from deep within him comes a heart wrenching sound as the partnership is severed, the body relinquished. Nothing matters anymore, absolutely nothing, because what did matter has now gone. How does he go on from this? How do I.


End file.
